


Figuring it Out

by nightvalemeteorologist



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Drugged Sex, M/M, Memory Loss, Sex Pollen, kind of, kink meme fill, pinning, the morning after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightvalemeteorologist/pseuds/nightvalemeteorologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for this prompt from the kink meme - http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/5006.html?thread=10218126#cmt10218126</p><p>Basically, Matt gets hit with a sex pollen type thing (weird creepy street drug. I don't go into too much detail about it.) and they wake up in bed together. Chaos ensues. This story is silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figuring it Out

Foggy wakes with a groan, twisting away from the sun pouring through the window and burying his head further against the warm neck of -

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Foggy pulls back quickly, pushing a very naked Matt arms length away and immediately waking him up.

“What-” Matt jolts, whipping around as an overload of sensory information crashes into him. “Foggy-?” Matt's head swims. He tries to take in everything at once but none of it makes any sense. He's naked. Foggy's naked. Matt is also...sticky and sore in a way that is not entirely unpleasant. He can smell...them, all over. And he can't remember how he got here. Matt drags in a breath, trying to calm is rapidly increasing heart but all it does it pull more of that delicious scent in and no, no, no. “Foggy, what, why-” Matt tries to get out, groping for the sheets to cover himself, aware of Foggy's eyes sweeping over his exposed body. 

Foggy snaps to attention immediately at the panicked edge to Matt's voice. “Whoa there, Matty, deep breaths.” He reaches out instinctively to touch him but pulls back, unsure. “It's okay, no need to panic, just breath.”

“What happened?” Matt manages.

“Ah, I was kind of hoping you could answer that,” Foggy admits. “But, it, uh, seems kind of like we-”

“Had sex,” Matt finishes for him, throat dry and hands shaking.

“I think that might be putting it lightly.” Foggy winces as he survives the marks covering Matt's neck and chest, most of the clearly not caused by his costume play. Foggy is sporting nearly as many marks as Matt and he doesn't need super senses to figure out what happened here. 

Matt shakes his head, raking a shaking hand through his hair. “No, no. The last thing I remember, I was on patrol. I was fighting this group of guys in some empty warehouse and...” Matt struggles to recalls the events of the previous night. “I was splashed with...something. It made everything feel all weird and wobbly and I made my way back here...”

“Where I was sneaking in to leave your birthday cake so you would find it when you got back...” Foggy trails off awkwardly. “The last thing I remember is hearing you tumbling through your bedroom window and going to investigate.” 

Matt can't deal with any of this, especially not with Foggy sitting just a few feet away from with still completely naked. The smell is so thick right here, soaked deeply into the blankets and clinging heavily to their bodies. “Foggy, I'm sorry - I can't remember. I don't know what I did and,” Matt can feel the panic rising, seeping into his voice. 

“Matt,” Foggy finally grabs Matt's shoulder, grip warm and comforting. Matt sucks in a hard breath at the contact, trying not to flinch away from it. “Matt,” Foggy repeats, warm and comforting in a way that makes Matt's stomach clench. “It's okay. It's weird, but it's okay.”

Matt shakes his head, disbelieving. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, no,” Foggy reassures. “Not in a bad way,” he adds, trying to joke but feeling incredibly awkward about it. “Look, if you are worried that you overpowered me and ravished me or something, I'm pretty sure that's not exactly what happened. I may not remember what happened but my keen detective skills tell me it, uh, went both ways, so to speak.”

“Keen detective skills?”

“You know it, buddy.” Foggy squeezes Matt's shoulder before releasing it. Matt still doesn't look convinced though, so Foggy goes on. “Okay, horribly awkward question, but uh, you can tell if I, you know, to you...”

“Oh,” Matt catches on, blushing all over. He shifts uncomfortably, ducking his head. “Um, yeah.”

“Well, uh, same? So, at least we are even?” Foggy suggests. “Look, Matt, we aren't the first best friends to black out and wake up naked in bed together. Although, it probably doesn't usually involve weird chemicals one of them picked up while beating baddies but whatever. The point is, these things happen.”

“You're not wrong, I guess,” Matt admits reluctantly, fidgeting with the sheets. 

“We can just write this off as one of those awkward friendship moments and move past it.”

“Awkward friendship moment?” Matt asks dubiously, wanting to trace the line of hickeys across his chest. He is still sticky and slick between his thighs. There is no way he is going to move past this any time soon but he is not going to mention that. 

“Yeah, like that time you threw up in my bed back in college.”

“Foggy, I don't that is at all comparable to this.”

“Well, maybe this is a little more uncomfortable then that was but we will get through it just the same.” Matt tries to return Foggy's smile but he is pretty sure it comes across as more of a grimace. “Okay, I am going to try to find my clothes and I am totally using your shower before I leave.”

Matt doesn't move right away when Foggy clambers off the bed and stumbles toward the living room, searching for his pants. He manages to push himself off the mattress and pull on a pair of fresh boxers and sweat pants. 

“Damnit, Murdock!” He hears Foggy call from the living room, amused annoyance evident in his tone. Foggy returns to the bedroom, holding a bundle of clothing in his arms. “You tore the zipper basically off my pants and ripped my boxers in half.”

Matt can't hide his flinch at that. “Seriously?” He asks meekly. 

“How am I supposed to leave your apartment without any pants? I'm sure as hell not fitting in yours.”

“Hang on, I might have something.” Matt rummages through his dresser until his fingers brush against the soft cotton of an old pair of too large sleep pants. “Um, will these work?” He offers the item of clothing to Foggy hesitantly.

Foggy sighs in relief, “In a pinch.” He takes the pants from Matt, trying his best to seem casual. “The cake is safe and sound though, so at least there is that.”

Once Foggy is in the bathroom, as soon as he hears the shower turn on, Matt starts to panic again. He can't help it. Foggy is everyone, all through his apartment. The heady scent of the two of them is clinging to practically every piece of furniture in the apartment and fuck how did they even make it to the bedroom? And why can't Matt remember any of it? Obviously, this whole thing is some kind of cruel joke. 

A little later, Foggy is out of the shower and dressed. He assesses himself in the bathroom mirror and determines that he still looks thoroughly well fucked. At the moment, there is no hiding the brilliant bruises creeping up his neck. At least he is clean. 

Matt still looks like a kicked puppy when Foggy finally emerges from the bathroom. Foggy can barely stand to look at him like this but he is pretty sure Matt can tell if he is obviously avoiding him with his eyes. It is just that Matt looks so good like this. His hair is still a mess, his clothes are hastily pulled on and they do very little to disguise what happened the night before. His blush is bright as he awkwardly says goodbye to Foggy at the door. Foggy can't help it, Matt just looks so dejected and concerned. So he pulls him into a tight hug. Matt is rigid in his arms but he reluctantly returns the hug.

“We're fine, Matt.” Foggy's voice is steady and reassuring.

“O-okay.” Matt mumbles softly. Foggy smells fresh and clean but Matt can still detect the faintest hint of them on him. Fine. Sure. They will be fine. The hug lingers, Foggy's fingers tangled in his hair, breath warm against his neck. Matt can hear Foggy's heart pick up and it does little to comfort him.

With Matt in his arms, still sweaty and trembling, Foggy is hit with a very vivid memory. Him, backing Matt up against a wall and twisting Matt's hair in his hands, pulling. Matt whining, hips bucking and nails dragging against his back. He pushing this thought back forcefully and does his best to smile as he says goodbye to Matt. “I'll see you at the office tomorrow, okay?”

Matt nods. “Of course.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Foggy stops before he opens the door, turning back toward his friend. “Happy birthday, Matt.”

Matt can't help the laugh the bubbles out of him. “Thanks, Foggy.” 

 

As soon as Foggy leaves, Matt gets to work. He can't leave the apartment like this, smelling so much like Foggy and everything that happened the night before. He loves the smell. He wants to wrap himself up in his sheets, completely surrounded himself with it, and just breath it in. Last night was an accident – a mistake. It was his fault and he doesn't deserve to fill his lungs with the intoxicating scent. So he strips the bed and drags everything that can be put into a washing machine down to the laundry room. He takes a shower, cranking the water to almost scalding and staying under the spray until it turns cold. 

Foggy told him not to freak out and he is trying very hard to stick to that instruction. It is not easy.

He is trying so hard to remember something from the night before but everything is still blank. He remembers climbing through his bedroom window and that's where everything ends. He can imagine how things went after that but that is a train of thought he should really avoid. He has been avoiding thinking about Foggy that way for some time now, it has started to come naturally now. 

Once Matt gets out of the shower, he can't bring himself to stay in his apartment. The smell is fainter now but still present. Matt's skin crawls just standing in the living room so he cracks a window to let the air in and slips out into the hallway. He spends the rest of the afternoon trying to retract his steps from the night before. 

 

 

Foggy fails not to slam his door shut behind him in his haste to get inside his own apartment. He drops his keys onto the coffee table and drops face first onto his couch. “Fuuuck,” he groans into the pillows. “Not good, Nelson. Not good.” Foggy forces himself to sit up, sighing miserably, and turns the TV on in the hopes of drowning out his pathetic train of thought. It doesn't work so he grabs a beer from the fridge even though it is barely noon. 

So. That was not exactly how he planned his night to go. Although, leaving a cake in Matt's apartment then coming home to mope and probably masturbate was not a great alternative to whatever happened last night. Foggy takes a long swig of his beer before letting his head fall back, groaning loudly. He thinks he did an okay job of convincing Matt that he isn't completely freaking out on the inside but then again he could probably smell it on him. Or hear it. Something. He seemed willing to accept the lie, at least. 

Foggy has been in love for so long that it has become background noise. The crush was instant but the probability so low he never paid attention to it. It blossomed into love without his permission or immediate notice. One day, Matt was just his adorable roommate with the disarming smile and the next Foggy was head over heels. It didn't matter because nothing was ever going to happen. 

Then something happened.

A vivid image interrupts Foggy's thoughts. Matt, sweaty and flushed beneath him, writhing and moaning, loud and filthy. Foggy finishes his beer. 

“I'm so fucked.”

 

 

Foggy wakes up two hours early on Monday. He feels immediately panicked about the day to come, pulls the covers over his head and rolls over. Sleep doesn't come back before his alarm is ringing. The small part of the night that he spent sleeping was also spent dreaming about Matt. Foggy wakes up not knowing how much was memory and how much fantasy. He _might_ pour a little whiskey in his coffee that morning. 

When he arrives at the office he is glad to see that Matt doesn't look as though he fared the night much better. It is a small comfort, at least. Matt smiles thinly when Foggy enters the office and heads straight to the coffee maker in the corner. 

Karen tuts loudly from her desk. “You look even worse then Matt,” She chides kindly.

“I can assure you, Karen, that I look amazing,” Foggy quips as he pours a sugar packet into his coffee. 

“Sure, Foggy. ” She rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to her computer. “It seems you two ending up doing something for Matt's birthday after all,” she says without looking up from her computer screen. They can both hear the accusation in her tone. Matt had admittedly refused her insistence of celebration and now she thinks she was left out of something.

“It was nothing,” Foggy starts.

“Foggy brought me a cake,” Matt adds unhelpfully from his office. 

“Yeah,” Foggy nods quickly. “I did do that. We just got drunk Matt's. Nothing spectacular.” 

“Uh-huh,” Karen is looking from Foggy to Matt now, clearly unconvinced. Foggy smiles as innocently as possible and she just shakes her head at him. “Well, you two have a meeting at ten so you better perk up.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” He waves off Karen's concern and glances at Matt through his office window. He is briefly lost in another vivid flash of memory. _Matt's fingers in his hair, pulling. Their legs are tangled together and Matt can't stop moving beneath him. His face is buried in Foggy's neck, trailing wet, sloppy kisses across his skin. “Please, please, please,” Matt begs, high and needy. “Don't stop. More, please.”_ Foggy shakes his head, hard, and drags in a deep breath. He forces himself to turn away and head toward his office, hands shaking and he grips his coffee mug.

When he sense his turn away, Matt shuts his eyes and focuses on his breathing. He could feel Foggy's eyes on him, his elevated heart rate, the sudden flush of arousal that coursed through his body. Now all he can sense is from Foggy is frustration and embarrassment. 

This is going to be a long day.

 

 

Somehow, they manage to get through the client meeting. It is hard to concentrate with Foggy so close in the small meeting room but Matt pulls through. After, Karen goes out to pick up lunch and they are left alone in the office. Matt is out of his chair and halfway across the office before Karen reaches the elevator. 

“Foggy,” He greets, leading against the door frame and trying to seem casual. He  
hates the nervous beat of Foggy's heart when he looks up at Matt. 

“Hey.”

“I, um,” Matt hesitates at the doorway for a moment before pushing himself forward into Foggy's office. He can feel Foggy's eyes on him as he waits patiently for Matt to continue. “I went out last night.” The implication is clear. 

Foggy swallows hard but otherwise tries to remain impassive. “Yeah?”

Matt is at the edge of Foggy's desk now, fingers dancing along the polished wood. “Yeah.” Matt can feel Foggy's steady gaze on his face and knows he is blushing faintly. “I couldn't – I mean, I couldn't let that stuff just float around so I had to find them-”

“Matt,” Foggy interrupts, voice soft and calming. He pushes up from his chair and walks around the desk, leaning against it in front of Matt. “I know, Matt. It never occurred to me that you would just let this lie.”

Matt huffs out a little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well?” Foggy pompts, “How did it go?”

The understanding they have built about Daredevil is thin and tenuous at this point. They don't talk about these things in a lot of detail and they are dancing around this topic more then usual. Foggy likes to know but he doesn't like to _know._ Matt tells Foggy when he is going on patrol and lets him know when he makes it home safe. Foggy doesn't usually ask for more information then that. “Alright. It should be done tonight.”

Foggy wants to say something else but he isn't sure what, exactly. “Matt...” He starts and stops, clearing his throat. “If something happens,” he says. _If you get dosed with that drug again,_ he doesn't say. “Come to my place, okay?” He wants to tell him to come over even if everything goes fine but he doesn't say that, either. 

Matt swallows, head ducked. “Yeah,” it comes out quieter then he wanted. “Of course.” They stand like that for a while, a heavy, unnameable feeling hanging between them. Matt is the one to finally break the awkward silence between them, when he senses Karen coming up in the elevator. “Karen is back with lunch,” He says with a strained half smile. 

Foggy is thankful for the distraction when Karen comes in with a bag full of Chinese food. “Where's the Kung Poa Chicken?” he asks as he delves into the bag as soon as Karen sets it on the desk. She swats his hands away as she tries to pull out the containers of food. 

“If you would wait for one second,” she gripes kindly as she yanks the bag away from him. When she looks up at him she catches a glimpse of something on his neck that makes her pause and grin wickedly. “My goodness, Foggy. Is that a hickey?” she teases. 

Foggy stiffens and goes beat red. He curses his immediate reaction, wishing he was able to remain cool and collected. Behind Karen, Matt does much the same thing. He touches the fadding mark on his neck, just peaking out from under the collar of his shirt. “Uhhh. No?” _Smooth, Nelson. Real smooth._

Karen raises her brow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. So,” She looks at Matt over her shoulder, registering his equally embarrassed expression, “You two just had a quiet weekend? Nothing exciting happened?”

“Uhh,” Matt struggles, expression pained. 

“Oh, Chow Mein. Look, Matt. Chow Mein,” Foggy babbles, trying to break the awkward tension. 

Karen looks between the two of them, realization crossing her face. “Wait, seriously? Did you two –” 

“I'll take some Chow Mein, Foggy. That sounds great.” Matt interrupts. 

Karen chuckles to herself as her boys split of the food and run to hide in their respective offices. 

 

 

“So,” Karen starts as Foggy climbs into the cab beside her. They usually share one after work, unless they all go to Josie's together. “You two hooked up?”

“I don't know what you are talking about,” Foggy insists, refusing to look at her. 

Karen laughs, rolling her eyes. “Well, it took long enough, if you ask me.”

He huffs. “It wasn't – we didn't, uh.”

“You sound very convincing right now, Foggy.” Karen tells him sarcastically.

“It didn't count,” Foggy decides. “So it doesn't matter.”

“Didn't count?”

Foggy sighs, dropping his head back against the seat. “Nope. I barely remember anything, he remembers nothing. We were wasted. Doesn't count.”

“But you want it to count,” Karen points out. She doesn't need to ask.

Foggy groans and covers his face with his hands. “You can't prove that.”

“Foggy, did you ever think about just telling him how you feel?”

Foggy drops his hands to his lap and groans again. “It's like, I know that you are saying words but they just don't make any sense.”

Karen sighs, pats Foggy's knees and smiles at him sympathetically. “Okay, honey, whatever you say. But you really should tell him.”

 

 

Foggy falls asleep on his couch, a few empty beer bottles scattered on the coffee table and the TV still on. His phone is resting on the couch beside him, volume turned up in the hopes of waking if Matt texts him.

Matt doesn't text him. Instead, he climbs through his window.

“Foggy?” Matt turns the TV off as he crosses the living room. 

“Hmm?” Foggy stirs on the couch, mumbling groggily. “Matt?” He pulls himself up as soon as he sees his friend hovering above him. “Are you alright?” He reaches out for Matt, hands hesitating halfway. 

“I'm fine,” Matt's voice is rough and quiet. He tugs the cowl of his head and lets it drop to the coffee table behind him.

“Are you hurt?” Foggy asks, moving to get off the couch. 

Matt shakes his head, waving Foggy off. Foggy sinks back down into the couch as Matt sits beside him. “No, I'm – I'm fine. Sorry, if I scared you by showing up.”

“No, it's fine,” Foggy assures him, squeezing his hand. He looks down at their joined hands, blushes, and pulls his hand back. He thinks about the hazy memory of Matt's lips against his and blushes deeper. He swallows hard and clears his throat, trying to think of something to say. Matt's hair is sweaty and messed up from his mask. His cheeks are red and there is a bruise forming on his cheek. 

“Foggy –” Matt starts. 

“Matt –” Foggy says at the same time. 

They share small, awkward smiles. “It went well, then?” Foggy asks.

“Yeah. It should, it should be taken care of.”

Foggy nods, humming his acknowledgment. 

“Foggy,” Matt tries again, voice heavy with something Foggy can't quite pinpoint. Foggy can remember how soft his hair is, how Matt moaned when he pulled it. He swallows hard, rubbing his palms against his knees. “What is it?” Matt asks instead of whatever it is he was going to say.

Foggy wants to laugh off the question but he knows Matt could hear any lie he comes up with. “Nothing, it's just,” he hesitates, unsure of exactly what to say. 

“What?” Matt implores. 

“Well, I've been kind of...getting memory flashes of the other night,” Foggy manages to answer with some difficulty. His face is burning and he knows Matt can sense that, too. 

Matt makes a small, almost pained sounded in the back of his throat at Foggy's admission. “Foggy, if I did anything a-”

“No,” Foggy cuts him off. “Nothing bad,” he insists. His blush deepens as he fidgets in his seat. “They are...good memories.”

There is a hard knot of jealousy in the pit of Matt's stomach that he has no say over. Foggy remembers, at least a little bit, he _remembers._ Matt has been trying desperately to pull any tangible memory out of that pit of darkness but has come up with nothing. “What,” Matt hesitates over the question, wanting to know but not wanting to ask. “What do you remember?

They are close on the couch, knees just resting against each other. 

“Do you want to know?” Foggy finds himself asking just above a whisper. 

“Yes,” Matt breathes.

“Do you want me to tell you?” Foggy asks. Matt is just about to nod when Foggy keeps going. “Or show you?” A long beat of silence passes between them and Foggy starts to think he messed up. He opens his mouth to somehow recover this situation when Matt responds. 

“Show me.”

Foggy is moving almost before the words are fully out of Matt's mouth. He is pushing Matt back against the couch, knees hemming him in and hands tangled in his hair. Matt lets out a soft whimper, arching beneath Foggy. 

“This is okay, right?” Foggy breathes, lips hovering just above Matt's. “You want this?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Matt breathes. “Please. I want this, I want you. Please, make me remember.”

Foggy presses his forehead against Matt's, taking a moment to catch his breath. “Yeah,” He pants, “yeah, I can do that.” 

Foggy kisses him. Matt surges up, grappling against Foggy's shoulders and trying to pull him as close as possible. Matt's eagerness goes straight to his groin and he can barely think straight. All he knows is Matt needs to get out of that damn suit, immediately. 

“We need to get you out of this damn suit,” Foggy announces when he manages to pull away from the kiss long enough to get words out. Foggy helps pull him off the couch and they stumble together toward the bedroom. 

Foggy sits on the edge of his bed as he watches Matt strip out of his tight suit. Matt, naked and glistening in the dim light of the room, drops to his knees between Foggy's legs and leans heavily against his chest. Foggy runs his hands down Matt's back, loving the way he whimpers and shakes in his arms. Matt tugs at the hem of Foggy's shirt, humming impatiently. Foggy chuckles as he pulls the shirt off and tosses across the room. “Come here,” Foggy mumbles as he pulls Matt up onto the bed. 

Foggy pins Matt onto the mattress beneath him. He brushes Matt's damp hair from his face, smiling fondly at the man in his arms. “I don't regret the other night,” he tells him, “but it's not how I wanted it, not how I imagined it.”

Matt whines. “You've thought about it? Thought about...us?”

Foggy pulls him into a deep kiss, one hand pulling his hair as the other travels down his torso. “All the time, Matt.” 

“What have you thought about?”

Foggy doesn't answer with words. He pulls gently on Matt's hair as he kisses down his neck, earning a needy whimper from the man below him. They stay like that for a long time, kissing deeply and moving against each other. Foggy takes his time getting to know Matt's body, finding which spots make him twitch and whimper the most.

“Did you think of anything other then teasing me?” Matt gets out eventually, voice strained and hips twitching. 

Foggy chuckles, rolling one of Matt's pert nipples between his fingers. “Hmm, I can't seem to remember right now...”

Matt whines, nails digging into Foggy's shoulders as he cants his hips upward. “ _Foggy,_ please,” he begs. 

“Please, what?” Foggy taunts gently, nipping at Matt's neck.

“Foggy,” Matt groans. “stop teasing and fuck me, please.”

Foggy hums, pretending to think it over. “Well, I suppose...”

“Foggy!”

He kisses Matt deeply, smoothing his hair back and grinding his hips down. “Since you asked so nicely.” He stretches across Matt to open the nightstand drawer and fish out his bottle of lube.

Matt complains nearly the whole time Foggy is prepping him. Foggy tries to hold his hips against the the mattress because Matt won't stop _moving_. His hands are alternating from gripping the sheets to tangling in Foggy's hair and he can't seem to shut up. “Foggy, _please_ , I'm ready. Please, just fuck me.” But Foggy keeps going until he is convinced Matt is physically ready. He knows better then to trust Matt's self preservation skills.

Matt finally shuts up when Foggy sinks into him. He lets out a small, desperate noise as Foggy bottoms out.

“Fuck, Matt,” Foggy breathes, pressing his forehead against Matt as he tries to catch his breath. 

“ _Move._ ”

Foggy huffs out a laugh before pulling back slightly and thrusting back in. Matt wraps his legs around Foggy's waist, pulling him deeper, and starts bucking back against each of Foggy's thrust. They don't last long, both too keyed up to make it last. Matt comes first, nearly wailing as he thrashes against the mattress. Foggy lets out one long groan as he comes deep in Matt's pliant body. 

Foggy pulls out and drops to the mattress beside Matt, immediately scooping him up and pulling him to his chest. Matt sighs happily, snuggling close. 

“I should head back,” Matt says after a while.

Foggy tightens his arms around Matt and shakes his head against the pillow. “No way is that happening.”

“Hmm, it's late, or early... I only have the suit with me-”

“Don't care,” Foggy cuts him off. 

“We have work in the morning,” Matt adds halfheartedly. He hasn't made any move to get off the bed. 

“We'll stop by your place in the morning,” Foggy decides as he pulls a blanket over them. “But I'm definitely not letting you out of this bed so...” he kisses along Matt's neck as he strokes one hand down his chest. 

Matt hums, relaxing against Foggy's chest. “I suppose I could spend the night.”

They are late for work in the morning because they can't keep their hands off each other. Karen smirks at them knowing when they walk in together looking like they just made out in the hall. She gives a thumbs up and he rolls his eyes at her, unable to keep the smile off his face.


End file.
